


a fumbling play for your heart

by Tanni



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanni/pseuds/Tanni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“So how’s the puppy?” Nick says after a stretched out silence. He’s probably not asking about the puppy, Liam thinks.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“He’s alright. Still finding his feet, so to speak.” He clears his throat. “Still learning.”</i>
</p>
<p>Or, Liam comes to Nick for advice and ends up with an epiphany and a puppy, but not in that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a fumbling play for your heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swallowsmateforlife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swallowsmateforlife/gifts).



> This is for **swallowsmateforlife** , who asked for a fic where Liam contemplates coming out publicly and goes to Nick for advice and support, but ends up falling for Nick along the way. I hope this is what you wanted!
> 
> Many thanks to **fuluoliang** for gracing me with her incredible patience as I nagged her about this story for ages; and to **Vae** and **@goingmissing** for being the most efficient, thorough and wonderful betas a last-minute mess like me could ever hope for (or deserve, frankly). They are magic and made this story much, much better. Any remaining mistakes are to be blamed entirely on me!
> 
> (Note: let's call this story canon-adjacent, as it is set in a very near future and was written before it turned out that Liam had fooled us all by having actual secret dogs.)

The room is abuzz with soft murmurs, clinking glasses and the occasional burst of loud, fake laughter. The whole thing is as stereotypical as these music industry cocktail parties get, and Liam should really be used to it by now. God knows he’s somehow always the one they send to these things, to shake hands with people and to smile and say all the right things. Good old, dependable Liam. He doesn’t really mind, though. This is what Liam does well. He just wishes he had someone by his side, if only so they could pretend to be deep in conversation and avoid eye contact with everyone who wants a piece of him.

"I think we need two more glasses of champagne, don't you?" he tells Paddy under his breath. He smiles brightly and shakes hands as someone tells him their name, then forgets it again immediately.

"On it," Paddy says quietly, handing Liam a prawn cocktail off a passing silver tray before he makes his way to the catering bar. Liam accepts it gracefully and leans his elbows on the pristine white tablecloth draped over a cocktail table, picking at the prawns with a tiny silver fork. If he looks busy enough, perhaps no one will want to shake his hand for at least two minutes. The party should have been winding down already, and most of the catering staff are looking decidedly eager to start cleaning up, but no one seems quite ready to leave. Liam feels mellow with the champagne and tired with the heat of the crowd, and he's very ready to go home.

Someone claps him lightly on the shoulder and Liam is already plastering on a smile as he turns around, expecting another middle-aged man with sweaty palms who calls him 'killer'.

Instead he finds himself looking at a smiling Nick Grimshaw. “Hiya, Liam Payne,” he says, the champagne making his eyes bright. Liam's a bit jealous; champagne just makes him feel vaguely sleepy.

"Hi there, Mister Grimshaw. Fancy meeting you here." Liam smiles back, feeling immensely grateful. He wasn't expecting to run into him, but Nick is exactly the kind of friendly face he needed to see right now.

"I know," Nick says, making a face. "All part of the glamorous new job. They needed one of the judges they could parade around like... some kind of parade-y animal, and I'm just too nice to say no, really."

"Ha," says Liam, but he means _me too_. "I just go to this thing every year, me. I mean, the thought alone gives Niall anxiety. And I'm sure Harry or Louis would want to do it, but the label wants someone a bit more, you know. Predictable." He wrinkles his nose at his own words, making Nick laugh.

"To rub shoulders with all the people who want to be reassured that they're still relevant. Yeah, you're good at that, I think. Look, at least there is free champagne in it for you, young Liam." Nick smiles, raising an eyebrow. "And of course, my thrilling company."

"That does improve my night by a lot, it's true." He glances over Nick's shoulder at the catering bar. "Especially since Paddy seems to have abandoned me for the catering lady with the big eyes. Traitor." He smiles ruefully. "Ah well, home alone tonight, I suppose."

Nick nods understandingly, and Liam knows what’s coming before the words even leave Nick’s mouth. “Yeah, I heard about you and your girlfriend splitting up. You alright?”

Liam wants to say that he was definitely _not_ alright after him and Sophia decided to split up, but he doesn’t because his post break-up meltdown has been exceptionally well-documented in the tabloids and on all forms of social media. He doesn’t think that Nick, with his jobs on television and radio and his addiction to Heat magazine and online platforms has missed even a single moment of it. To be honest, Liam would rather just forget it ever happened. Not his finest hour, he thinks.

He also wants to tell Nick that it’s alright, that him and Soph are still friends. He doesn’t say that either though, because he doesn’t know if it's true. They're probably not quite there yet. Liam hopes they will be soon not only because they always got on so well, but right now he thinks they’re both better off giving each other some time and space. In the end, he just shrugs and stabs absently at the last remaining prawn in his glass.

“Yeah, I think I’m getting there,” he says finally, after what feels like a million years and losing himself in even more memories. “I’ll always be a bit sad about it, you know? We were a good match. But it was the fairest solution for both of us.” He realises he's using the exact same voice he uses when journalists ask them uncomfortable questions, and Nick can definitely tell. The silence hangs between them, and it’s not uncomfortable, Liam thinks. Not really. It’s just heavy with all the things Nick clearly wants to ask, and all the things Liam _really_ doesn’t want to get into.

He glances at Nick.

"Hey, so, question," he says, the champagne making him feel confident and vaguely reckless. Nick is the perfect person to ask this question to. "Did you ever come out like, publicly?" The words feel like a thrill leaving his mouth. He knows he's kept his voice low enough that the short, frail looking PR woman right behind him just keeps chattering away into her headset. It still feels like a strange, dangerous thing to say out loud, especially with this many people milling about.

Nick, to his credit, doesn't choke on the champagne he's sipping and just watches Liam intently over the rim of his glass. Not as casual a question as Liam was hoping, then. Casual was never Liam’s strong suit, really. He clears his throat, running his fingers over the stem of his empty glass.

"I'm just curious," he says finally.

Nick sets the glass down. “Yeah, I bet you are.” Liam watches Nick's hands as he pats the pockets of his jeans, like anything could _possibly_ be hidden in them. “You haven’t got a lighter by any chance, have you? I feel like we should probably step outside, yeah?”

Liam nods, giving Paddy a little wave that he hopes means _I’m alright, please continue pulling_ before falling into step with Nick as he heads into a side corridor leading to the loos and an emergency exit. He hopes there’s no alarm set to go off when someone pushes it open. That would definitely put a much bigger spotlight on them than Liam needs right now. He winces when Nick pushes down the bar, but nothing happens and then they’re standing outside in a small car park used for loading and unloading deliveries. The sun has all but set, it’s drizzling lightly and there are two large, smelly garbage bins by the door. Liam doesn’t want to be here.

He stuffs his hands in his trouser pockets and takes them back out uselessly. “Look,” he starts, and he realises he's sounding defensive before Nick has even had a chance to open his mouth but he can't help himself. "I didn't mean for that to sound the way it did. I was just wondering about stuff, you know how it goes. It didn't - it doesn't." He stops and frowns, the words _it didn’t mean anything_ unwilling to leave his mouth.

Nick is still watching him thoughtfully. Liam never knew he could be this _quiet_. “Liam Payne,” he says, and his voice is gentle in a way that makes Liam feel fragile somehow, “I think you've had a bit too much champagne. So here's my plan, if you’re up for it. I was going to go home and have my Sunday roast leftovers for tea, but there are a _lot_ of leftovers because my friend Emily apparently cooked for a full army, and I’ll only end up spoiling Pig rotten if I share them with her.”

Liam blinks. “You’re inviting me for supper?”

“Leftovers,” Nick corrects lightly. “There won’t be multiple courses, young millionaire. I’m just offering you some sustenance to help sober you up, and maybe somewhere we can talk that isn’t full of people who keep The Sun on speed dial.” He raises his eyebrows, smiling faintly.

Liam wants to argue that he’s not that drunk, wants to say that he doesn’t always say too much, that he isn’t too honest at all the worst possible times. Instead he just nods and says, “Yeah, that sounds good, I think.”

***

He’s never been to Nick’s new house. He’d never been to the old one either, but he knew where it was. This place is huge by London standards, and it still smells new, like fresh paint and linen-scented candles. It definitely already feels like Nick’s though, with a strange painting of Justin Bieber propped up against the wall in a corner, Nick’s dog jumping up against their legs when they enter, and one of Nick’s many friends lounging on the sofa and flicking through the channels.

“Hiya,” Nick says. “Liam, this is my friend Michael. Michael, this is Liam.”

“Hello, Michael.” Liam gives him a cheerful little wave.

Michael laughs, and the dog runs up to him immediately, jumping onto the sofa and trying to lick his face. “Yeah, I know who Liam is, thank you Nick. Nice to meet you, Liam. Oi, Pig, give over.” He grimaces but doesn’t pull away.

“Do you want leftovers, Michael?!” Nick says loudly, already heading into the kitchen. Liam hesitates and then quickly follows him.

“Already had some! Also two beers!” Michael shouts back, scratching behind Pig’s ears.

“Thief.” Nick grins and shakes his head, opening the refrigerator. “Right, Michael drank the beers but as you need to get rid of the champagne haze anyway, I can offer you some very glamorous… bottled water from Tesco!” He pulls out two bottles with a flourish.

“That’s perfect, thank you.” Liam accepts it gratefully. A thought is growing inside of him, and he has to ask. “Does he live here with you? Michael.” He’s trying for casual again, trying not to say the words _is he your boyfriend_ but the idea alone amazes him. The thought that it would be even half way possible for Nick to live with someone without it being all over the tabloids…

“Michael? No, he’s just babysitting Pig because I was out all day, wasn’t I,” Nick says, crushing Liam’s hopes on the spot. “She doesn’t like to be alone, poor thing.” He looks up at Liam with a smile like an apology. “Her being left alone leads to her weeing on my shoes, so I do try to avoid that.”

“Hey, I’m off, alright?” Michael pokes his head around the kitchen door. “Ring me if you want drinks Wednesday. Bye Liam, nice to meet you! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” The last words are already being shouted from the living room, and then the door slams and they’re alone. Pig pads in nervously and starts pottering about at their feet. It makes Liam smile.

“Hi, girl,” he says, crouching down to pet her head. She presses her wet nose against his hand. “What a sweetheart you are.”

“Oh she is, she knows it though. You've never seen a bigger diva in the land of dogs. Didn’t you have one? A dog I mean, not a diva.” Nick looks at Liam over his shoulder as he puts the leftovers in the microwave.

“Yeah. He lives with my ex-girlfriend now.” He watches Pig jump up against Nick’s leg, her tail wagging excitedly at the smell of the food. “I think I’d like the company, actually. I miss having a puppy around. You know, I've got Paddy but it’s just not the same.” He grins up at Nick, straightening.

“Oh, I don’t know, at least he’s housebroken,” Nick shrugs casually, waiting for the microwave to beep before scooping the food onto two plates. “They’re really good company, dogs. I hate being alone, can’t stand it. Dogs give you like… unconditional love.” He smiles, putting the plates on the kitchen table with a handful of cutlery and plopping down, waiting for Liam to do the same.

“You’re a very honest person, Nicholas Grimshaw,” Liam says. He can’t imagine saying the things Nick says about needing love or feeling lonely, not even to his own parents, let alone to a person he’s only met a handful of times. Maybe that makes it easier though, he thinks. They’re not close friends, him and Nick, not the way Nick is friends with Harry. Maybe coming here was a good idea, maybe he can tell Nick some things that would be hard to discuss with his close mates.

He’s not sure what he would say though, so instead he just says, “I think I’d name him Alfred, you know. The puppy.”

“Alfred. Good, strong puppy name, that.” Nick laughs, twisting the caps off their bottles of water.

“Yeah, Alfred’s Batman’s butler and his best friend, so.” Liam grins, scuffing the tips of his loafers against Nick’s new kitchen tiles. “I mean, I should probably call him Ultron, you know?” His grin falters when Nick blinks at him, uncomprehending. “You know… Because my first dog was named Loki, and he was the bad guy in the first Avengers film. And Ultron is the bad guy in the second one?”

Nick stares at him. “I will take your word for it.”

Liam bursts out laughing. “Didn’t you see that one for work? Like. You interviewed the cast?” He pauses, weirdly embarrassed and unsure if he doesn’t want Nick to know how much he loves superhero films, or if he doesn’t want Nick to know he’s been watching interview clips of him. “I, uh, watched it on YouTube.”

“Oh yeah, that one. It had the Hulk, right? I may or may not have dozed through most of that, if I'm brutally honest.” Nick grimaces. “Why I got the dog to do the interview, isn’t it? I have a very short attention span and most films are _really_ long.”

“Me and Nialler watch a lot of films when we’re off on tour. Don’t really get around to it myself, when I’m home. Or I didn’t, but maybe I will now. Don’t have much else going on right now.” He smiles a bit. He really doesn’t mean to sound self-pitying, but he can’t help it.

“The key, Liam Payne, is to develop an obsession.” Nick smiles brightly, sipping his water bottle. “Obsessions are the best distraction. My vote, in your case… Hm.” He looks Liam up and down thoughtfully in a way that makes Liam’s ears go a little bit pink.

“What?”

“I’m thinking! I _would_ say my vote goes to obsessively going to the gym and punching away all your frustrations, but I think you’re there already.” He waves a hand in Liam’s general direction. “I mean, look at you. I went to the gym like three times recently and I still don’t look like that. It’s really unfair.”

Liam grins and shakes his head. He forgot that Nick is always generous handing out compliments, and it’s nice for the ego but Liam really doesn’t look half as good as Nick makes it sound. “Well,” he counters lightly, “you also just got home from a cocktail party and ate like half a roast.”

“Oh, hey. Hurtful.” Nick’s brows knit together for a brief moment, before his smile returns brighter than before. “Alright, alright, different obsession. How about that puppy? If anything will distract you, a small, attention-seeking dog will definitely get the job done.” He sighs and points at Pig, who is currently scratching at the back door, demanding to be let into the garden. “Case in point.”

“Yeah, maybe I will.” Liam smiles, patting his knees and being pushed back into his seat when Pig jumps into his lap with a pleased little woof. “Oof! Right. Cuddly dog. Heavy dog, too.”

“Please don’t call my dog fat, I won’t hear the end of it for weeks.” Nick hums, reaching over to kiss Pig’s nose. “Love of my life. The mean man doesn’t mean it. Hey.” He peers up at Liam, not moving back even though he’s sort of hovering over Liam’s lap. “I want to meet the puppy, when you get it. Bring it over to meet Pig, and they can have a little play date together. Pig’s brilliant with little dogs. Very gentle.”

Liam nods before he even has to think about it. He doesn’t think he’s seen Nick this excited about anything. “Yeah, that seems brilliant, mate. Cheers.” He doesn’t know why he’s thanking Nick, but he’s already feeling about a hundred and twelve percent better than he did an hour ago, which seems like a good enough reason.

He’s already home when he realises they never even got to have the conversation Liam wanted to have.

***

The festival grounds are bathed in sunshine, and the nearby thumping of a muffled bass makes everything feel inviting despite the pervasive smell of portaloos and two-day old mayonnaise. It almost makes Liam want to get out there, to get on the beers and dance until his feet hurt. He knows better, of course. It’s a shame, but that’s how it is. Even watching a performance from the side of the stage is risky; Liam doesn’t want them to get spotted and accidentally take the focus away from the people on the actual stage. Instead, he commandeers Niall into playing some table tennis with him in the artist village.

“Yes! Fuck yes! Eat the dust off my ball, Payno!” Niall crows. Liam raises an eyebrow at him. “Okay that did sound a bit funny, there. My point is, I’m crushing you and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He grins and Liam grins back, heading around the table to pick up the ball which, in fairness to Niall, is in fact lying in the dust. When he looks up, Niall is saying hello to Gary Barlow, pint in hand.

“Brilliant, isn’t he?” Niall shakes his head once Gary has walked off. He sets his pint down on the table, immediately leaving a ring of condensation. Liam wants to go find a coaster but it might look stupid on a table tennis table, so he doesn’t.

“Yeah,” he says instead. “Legend, that man.” He bounces the ball on his paddle, up, up, up; lost in thought.

“Hey. Do you think we’ll ever do that stuff?” Niall asks, looking at Liam seriously. “Like, solo tours and reunions and second reunions and all that.” He picks up his beer and then sets it down again without drinking.

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know, Nialler.” Liam chews his bottom lip a little. “You can’t really predict how we’ll all feel in a few years, I suppose.” It’s bizarre to talk about this. He doesn’t want to say that he really hopes they never stop working together but that he _needs_ a break. They all do. They don’t talk about it, but they all understand each other well enough by now that there seems to be an unspoken agreement that this is going to be their last tour for a while. He doesn’t know how long that while will be, but he hopes it’s not forever.

“Yeah.” Niall gives him a crooked smile. “Wouldn’t mind seeing your ugly mug for a bit longer, myself.”

“Back at you, mate.” Liam smiles back. This is why talking to Niall is really nice, he thinks. It’s so _easy_. He never makes a fuss, and he’s always straightforward with how he feels. Liam wishes he could be more like Niall every day, instead of bottling things up until they explode out of him at inconvenient times. 

“Hello hello.” Harry pads over to them, his hands stuffed in his coat even though it’s one million degrees by English standards. Nick's travelling in his wake. “Has anyone seen Lou or Caroline? We have to get ready soon.”

“Yeah, they’re in the catering tent, I think?” Niall downs his beer in one big gulp, pointing with the empty cup.

Nick grins, nudging Harry with one shoulder. “Go on then, I’ve got work to do here. Go and get pretty.”

“I’m already pretty.” Harry grins back at Nick, heading off to find their styling team.

“That, we cannot argue with, can we?” Nick hums, picking up a discarded paddle and giving the ball a light tap. It soars and shoots over Niall’s shoulder and into Rihanna’s people’s trailer. Nick pulls a face. “Oops. Pretend that was you, please, Liam. I do _not_ need Rihanna beef.” He shoves the paddle into Liam’s hands, grinning deviously. “Ah well, must be off, the radio awaits me. Can’t be standing around all day like the rest of you slackers.” He squeezes Liam’s shoulder. “See you lot on the main stage. Hey, how is the puppy hunt going?”

“Still, uh, hunting.” Liam blinks, because Nick’s attention span is all over the place but at the same time, he seems to remember their conversation from a month ago. To be honest, Liam had all but forgotten the puppy-talk part of that evening. “It’s been a bit hectic, as per usual. I really should do that though. Thanks for the reminder!” He smiles.

“Welcome, Liam. I have to run, or I’m gonna be late and get myself incredibly fired. Bye!” Nick gives them both a wave and hurries off.

“You’re getting a dog?” Niall’s eyebrows are raised.

“Thinking about it, yeah.” Liam smiles quietly. “C’mon, better get ready.”

***

Summer has come to London, and Liam isn’t quite sure why he’s standing in front of Nick’s new house rather than sleeping in the shade next to some hotel pool. He’s not even sure if Nick is in. Glancing over his shoulder, he can see Paddy giving him a confused frown from behind the steering wheel of the car. He points at the passenger seat, no doubt assuming that Liam rang the doorbell and no one is home. Liam shakes his head quickly and presses the button. At his feet, the puppy gives a quiet, anxious yip.

The speaker by the door crackles to life. “Hello?” Nick sounds confused, the dog barking happily in the background. “Shh, Pig!”

“Hi, it’s uh, Liam?”

“Liam… Oh! Coming! Hold on!” There’s a stumbling sound like maybe Nick just tripped over something before he could disconnect the speakerphone. Five seconds later the door is thrown open, Nick looking pleased if slightly out of breath.

“Sorry, dog tried to sabotage me on my way to the door,” he pants, lifting up one knee to rub at his shin. “Oh! Hello, puppy dog.” He crouches down immediately, all his attention on the small dog currently hiding behind Liam’s feet. “Better come in.”

Liam follows him inside, the puppy scooped up in his arms. He can feel his little doggie heart pound with nerves and excitement, and sort of gets it.

Nick makes a soft noise of delight, stepping close enough to Liam that he can scratch the puppy behind the ears.

“God, look how cute that puppy is. Hi, pal. What’s her name? His name?” Nick smiles.

“His, I went with Alfred in the end.”

“Right, Batman’s butler, was it?” Nick grins, shaking his head.

Liam grins back. Nick's memory is excellent. “Yeah, I could’ve gone with Gordon I suppose, but Alfred seemed more fitting. He’s definitely got that loyalty, you know?”

“None of the words you just said make sense to me, Liam.” Nick smiles fondly. “Now I’ll have to watch the bloody film to see if it’s a good name for him. No way around it, really.”

“I have them all on Blu-Ray, I’ll drop them off for you some time, if you like,” he says before realising that Nick was probably just being polite. He sets down Alfred, who waddles over to Pig on his short puppy paws, yipping excitedly. Pig makes a disgruntled sound and scoots backwards.

“Oh don’t be such a little baby, he’s only a puppy dog!” Nick crouches down, shaking his head. Liam follows his example, gently nudging Alfred closer to Pig. The puppy plops down on his rear and swats at Liam's hand with a tiny paw. “Apparently both our dogs are bloody divas. But yeah you should,” he says, and it takes Liam a second to realise Nick is talking about the films. “You can drop them off on Friday if you like, I’m having a party. Unless you’re busy doing important popstar things, mind.” He gives Liam a crooked smile.

“Nah, sounds good. We’ve got tour rehearsals but it won’t run very late, I don’t think. Oh, no. Bad Alfred!” he says sternly to the puppy that’s just stopped weeing on Nick’s floor. Alfred looks up and wags his tail uncertainly. Beside him, Nick just cackles loudly.

“Not a very scold-y name is it, Alfred? Don’t worry about it, Pig has weed on these floors many a time. I’ll get out ye olde mop and bucket .” Nick straightens up with a groan, grabbing the items from a kitchen cabinet. “Speaking of, I should take the Pig out for a walk before that exact thing happens.” He quickly mops up Alfred’s accident before Liam can offer to do it, which leaves him feeling a bit guilty. “Are you two coming with us?”

Pig all but loses her mind when Nick grabs the lead from the hook, which makes Alfred yip and jump up and down in circles around Pig, so Liam thinks it’s probably best to comply.

It’s just starting to rain when they step out of the house, so he steals over to the car to borrow Paddy’s baseball cap. Nick leans into the car, waving at Paddy through the passenger side window. “Hello there, Liam’s saviour. Would he even manage to survive the day without your help?”

“Not a chance!” Paddy grins.

“Yes yes, very funny, both of you,” Liam says with a frown, but he steals Paddy's cap and shrugs his jacket while he's at it because he forgot to bring one, so he doesn’t really know how to argue his point convincingly. Instead he just falls into step with Nick as warm rain starts pouring down on them, the dogs pulling on their leads and Paddy a short distance behind them with an umbrella, no matter whether Liam tells him that it’s alright, he can stay in the car, there aren’t even any people out on the street in this weather.

“Your life is not like other people’s lives,” Nick observes, shaking his head a little. “I think I’d go mental.”

“He’s pretty much my best mate now, so it’s alright really.” Liam smiles. He knows how lucky he is to have Paddy. “We talk about everything.”

Nick watches him out of the corner of his eye for a moment. “Do you?"

Something like a weight settles in Liam’s stomach. “Almost everything.” He stares at the glistening wet pavement in front of them.

Nick nods. "When we talked at that party, I felt like you were trying to ask me something. Or... discuss something with me. Yeah?” They turn a corner into the park, crouching down to unhook the leads so the dogs can run off. "You asked whether I ever came out in public," Nick continues, his voice muffled by the rain. "I feel like there was some intent behind that question..."

There's something about the way Nick phrases it. There's no pressure, all Liam would have to do is nod. So he does. "I've just. Been thinking about it a lot. How maybe I'm not entirely straight, you know?" The words feel heavy in his mouth. He glances over his shoulder without even meaning to, but Paddy is a safe distance away. Paddy knows all about giving Liam privacy.

"Don't suppose you’ve talked to anyone else about it in the mean time? No big interviews in The Sun that I’ve somehow missed?” There’s a smile in Nick’s voice that Liam can hear even though he’s _very_ intently watching the dogs play, and it loosens the knot in his shoulders by a fraction.

“Nah. I mean, I’m just doing a lot of thinking. Suppose that’s important too. Don’t think I should be talking to Paddy or Andy about it though, or the boys. It’s easier to say these things to you, you’re not.” He stops himself, feelings the tips of his ears turn red with embarrassment.

“Not as important in your life,” Nick finishes for him. Liam turns and opens his mouth to apologise, but Nick just smiles. “Don’t worry, zero offence taken. For what it’s worth, I’m one hundred percent sure you could tell Harry and he’d get it. Probably they all would. But I understand. The closer you are to people, the harder it is to tell them these things.” He glances over at Liam as they walk slowly down the increasingly muddy path. “But there’s no rush, is there?” Liam just shakes his head quietly; he still feels bad. “In the mean time, you can talk to little old me, alright?”

“I'd really appreciate that,” Liam says quietly. He doesn’t know if Nick hears him over the soft patter of the rain, even. "Thanks, you're a good listener."

“Don’t worry about it, Liam. I’ve been in any sort of coming out situation you can imagine, and in almost all cases it went very well.” Nick’s tone is light but there’s something tense around his shoulders that makes Liam focus on the word _almost_. “So, whatever I can do to help. I mean, you won’t really have a choice but to hang out with me.” He grins wide, pointing ahead at where Pig is trotting over to Alfred, dripping wet and dropping a collection of twigs at his paws, like a strange gift. “I think my dog has officially adopted your dog.”

***

When Liam wakes up on Sunday morning, he immediately vows to do absolutely _nothing_ today, thank you very much. He presses the dimmer button which controls the tinted windows and stretches out in the beams of sunlight that fall in a few moments later. The lovely thing about living in a high-rise again, Liam thinks, is that you don’t need curtains.

The downside of it, he considers as Alfred jumps onto the bed, yipping nervously, is that there’s no garden the dog can have a wee in. He’s not a very outdoorsy person really, but maybe having a garden would be nice. All the other boys have proper sized gardens. Nick has a nice one too; he remembers him letting Pig out for a wee. Frowning at his own distracted morning brain, he gets out of bed, pulls on a pair of trackies and a shirt, and finds his trainers and Alfred’s lead by the door.

It’s not even seven in the morning when they get out of the lift and step into the early sunlight. There’s no one outside, no one loitering against an office window pretending to be on their phone, no one half hidden in the carefully planted bushes like that makes them somehow invisible. Liam loves his flat, he does, but everyone knows where he lives and it gives him even less privacy than could be expected.

“Shh,” he says absently when Alfred barks at a pigeon, and sends off a quick text before he can think better of it. _U awake?_ It’s so empty outside, it’s just him and his thoughts, and if there’s anything he hates, it’s that.

Sophia rings him back almost immediately. “You’re up early. Or have you not gone to bed yet? You’re going to fuck up your sleeping schedule again, you know.”

“Nah, just woke up early,” he replies, dropping a tennis ball at his feet and watching Alfred attack it with a passion rarely seen in anything other than puppies. “Walking the dog.”

“You got a new dog, then?” The smile in Sophia’s voice is clear. “Good. I’m glad.” He thinks she’s saying _I’m glad you’re not wallowing in solitude because I thought you might be_ and he doesn’t say that he’s perfectly capable of having a puppy and feeling lonely at the same time, thanks.

“Yeah. His name’s Alfred.”

“Like Batman’s butler. Excellent.” She laughs softly, and Liam misses her with sudden sharpness. He misses her so much, even months later. Regardless of everything else, they were always mates, and right now he misses his mate like there’s a hole in his chest he’s only just noticed.

“I miss you, Smithers. Who am I supposed to binge watch the new season of True Detective with, now?”

There’s a long silence on the other end of the line but Sophia’s not upset. Liam knows her better than he knows himself - ironic, he thinks, as him not knowing himself well enough was the reason they split up in the first place. She’s just thinking of the right words to say. Always finds the right words, Sophia.

“I’m not doing anything today,” is what she says, finally, “Give me an hour.” Then she hangs up. Liam feels a weight lift and his lungs fill with air. He sits down on the low wall of the small but well-maintained public garden outside his building, and throws the soggy, disgusting tennis ball around for Alfred until the puppy is exhausted and he can see Sophia park her car next to the cluster of high-rises.

“Hi,” she says, looking at him over the top of her sunglasses. “You look terrible.” Liam wants to hug her, but he doesn’t. He’s not sure how it works with exes. He’s hardly an expert. He just introduces her to Alfred and watches her sit down next to him on the wall. “How are you? And be honest, because I can tell if you’re lying.” A smile plays around her lips but her expression is serious.

And Liam doesn’t _want_ to lie to her, even if he could. That’s why he had no choice but to tell the truth last January, when she asked, _Do you even know what you want?_

He still doesn’t.

“Yeah I’m not too bad,” he says, because that’s definitely the truth. He’s coming from a far worse place than this. “I just really missed talking to you. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and figuring things out, but it’s awful having just your thoughts for company, you know? I hate it.”

This makes her smile properly, and she bumps her shoulder into his. “Yeah, I remember. You’re terrible at being alone. Don't worry, you can always talk to me. Let’s go inside though, and you can make me a bloody coffee. Can’t believe I drove across London at 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning for your sorry arse.” Sophia grins, grabs the lead from him and follows Liam inside.

Since it's a Sunday and Liam's got nothing on his schedule, Paddy has the day off and is off visiting family. Liam gets the espresso machine to work after only four tries - Sophia snorts and says she could have walked to the nearest Costa already - and they both plop down side by side on the sofa, Alfred passed out on top of Liam’s feet.

They talk about Sophia’s family (they miss him) and then about Liam’s family (they miss her) and manage for an admirable thirty minutes before the elephant in the room has swelled to proportions that can no longer be ignored.

“What about. Have you been thinking about -” Sophia hesitates, and for once she doesn’t seem to know quite what to say. Grunting softly, she finally says, “Have you pulled any blokes yet, then?”

Liam chokes a little on his coffee. “I. No. No, I haven’t.”

“Why not?” She frowns. “That was why we-” She doesn’t finish her sentence and sinks back against the sofa cushions, nursing her coffee and looking frustrated, with him or with herself, Liam doesn’t know.

“I didn’t want to do anything rash, you know? You know how I’m always too quick to jump to conclusions, Smithers, and for once I wanted to take my time and just.” He sighs. “Think about it. And I don’t think I was wrong. It’s just… hard to meet anyone when every club in London has a small army of photographers waiting for me outside.”

She nods thoughtfully, watching a woman on television model a truly horrifying looking necklace. “Don’t suppose you’ve told any close friends who might be able to set you up with a friend of theirs?” She smiles wryly.

Liam returns the expression, shaking his head with a grimace. Their circle of friends was never really that… diverse. “Not exactly jumping up and down waiting to tell them.” He pauses. He can’t believe the thought is only coming to him now. God, sometimes his brain really is slow to catch up. “Actually, I _was_ talking to Nick Grimshaw a few days ago. You know, to ask him if he had any advice for me? And so far he’s proven pretty trustworthy. I bet he knows loads of people.” Liam runs his teeth over his upper lip. “Think maybe he knows someone I’d get along with?”

“Experiment with, you mean?” Sophia looks at him, darkly amused. “You won’t know until you ask him. Just be honest, alright? Make sure he tells them you’re, er, just trying out some stuff.” She grins wickedly, and Liam feels the tips of his ears go red but nods anyway.

*** 

“Liam! What a coincidence!” Nick screams into the phone. It’s nine in the evening by the time Liam has finally gathered up the courage to ring him. He was sort of hoping Nick would be in bed already, preparing for a long week of breakfast radio. In his mind, Nick would be quicker to agree to set Liam up with one of his friends if he was already half asleep. Instead, he’s somewhere very loud, sounding rather tipsy. “We were just talking about you!” he shouts.

Liam winces and holds his phone at a safe distance from his ear. “Should I be worried?”

“We’re trying to decide which One Direction songs to sing!” Nick enunciates. “We are at karaoke! Want to come over?!”

Liam laughs and glances at the clock. He can shoot Paddy a quick text, tell him where he is so Paddy can pick him up later. He’s been stuck inside his own apartment as well as his own mind all day, and the thought of getting a break from both sounds pretty fantastic right now. “Yeah alright, send me the address?”

It’s nearly an hour later before Liam finds himself all the way in Camden, sending off the driver and quickly hurrying into the karaoke bar before anyone recognises him. It’s not hard to spot Nick, partly because Nick’s friends seem to be the only people in the place, and partly because, well, Nick is currently on stage doing a rather terrible rendition of a Drake song.

“Hello.” He smiles when he recognizes Nick’s friend Michael. “Mind if I join you?”

“Oh thank God, someone who can actually sing.” Michael gestures to an empty seat and leans back in his chair, exaggerated relief dripping from his features. “Maybe you can get Nick off the stage.” Liam twists far enough in his chair to look at Nick, who’s waving emphatically before remembering he’s halfway through a verse and stumbling to catch up.

“At least he’s having a good time?” Liam grins. “Someone’s going to be suffering in the morning, though.”

“Oh he’s not even drunk. Not very, anyway. Thanks, Daisy,” Michael says as she sets down a pint in front of Liam, who lifts it up to her in thanks. “He had a few beers but he’ll be alright in the morning, always is. He just really, _really_ likes to sing.”

“Well, you know. Me too,” Liam says, smiling ruefully.

“Hello Liam Payne!” Nick plops down in between Daisy and another woman. He’s out of breath, leaning back on the seat with a grin on his face. “Have you met everyone yet?” He goes around the table, introducing everyone - the woman on Nick’s other side is apparently named Collette - and then slides over the song book. “Pick your poison.” He closes his eyes and soulfully croons, “I pick my poison and it’s yoouuu!”

Across the round table, Rita rolls her eyes and throws a few nuts at him. “Stop that!” Nick just giggles and makes a kissyface at her.

A pint and a half later, Liam’s on the tiny stage alongside Nick as they give the mostly empty bar their best Kelly Clarkson impression. Rita wolf-whistles loudly whenever Nick yells that he's spreading his wings and learning how to fly, which could be either because she’s a supportive friend or because she wants to drown out his singing. It could also be both, Liam supposes, and giggles through most of his own lines.

“Well done, Liam,” Nick pants when they’re done, clapping a hand to Liam’s shoulder. “Sorry I stole the spotlight. I mean.” He waves his hand up and down to indicate himself. “Pure talent, this. Ooo, I need fresh air.” He grimaces in the same way Harry sometimes does when he needs his inhaler, and points towards a back door.

The narrow side street they end up in has no clubs, live bars or pubs, and as a result is deserted except for a small group of drunk students on their way to the next best thing. Nick stuffs the inhaler in his mouth and takes two puffs, breathing in deeply. “Much better. Now we smoke.” He grins, lighting up a cigarette.

Liam blinks in surprise but follows suit. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he says carefully, even though he’s already taking a drag himself. Nick just rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling.

“Yes, thank you, Harold,” he says. “Your disapproving face looks very familiar.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Liam grins. “Does he do his ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ face with you?”

Nick groans loudly. Across the street, a middle-aged man in leather trousers glances over at them. “Yes! He’s so good at that face. Making people feel guilty about their life choices by being extra nice to them, the Harry Styles story. I make loads of shitty decisions so he gets to really work it to perfection.”

Liam laughs softly. “Bet you can’t even be annoyed with him about it. None of us can, mate. It’s like his superpower.” Nick just nods and lets out a slow breath, and Liam watches the smoke curl up freely into the warm night air.

“Hey, so why did you ring me?” Nick looks over curiously and Liam blinks, momentarily lost. “You know, earlier. When I told you to come to karaoke. Which, I might add, was a terrific idea on my part.” Nick gives him a crooked grin.

“Um,” Liam says eloquently, once he remembers his purpose in calling Nick. He suddenly doesn’t want to look him in the eyes, definitely doesn’t want to ask if Nick has any single male friends who might be _interested_. It suddenly feels wrong, like taking advantage of Nick's friendship - even if that might just be in Liam’s messed up head. “No reason really, mate. Just wanted to have a chat, really.”

Nick watches him for a moment in a way that makes Liam feel uncomfortable and guilty. “Well,” he says simply. “I’m quite good at being chatty, so you can always give me a call and I will regale you with stories of food shopping and the spider that lives in my spare room. Or it did the last time I went in there, which was three weeks ago. Hate spiders.” Nick shudders. Liam smiles quietly and leans against the cold brick wall of the building. “So how’s the puppy?” Nick says after a stretched out silence. He’s probably not asking about the puppy, Liam thinks.

“He’s alright. Still finding his feet, so to speak.” He clears his throat. “Still learning.”

Nick nods. “Well, if the puppy gets lonely, Pig really enjoyed his company last time. So he’s welcome any time.” He looks a Liam, smiling wide and Liam feels overwhelmed with gratitude. He doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say, _thanks for being someone I can trust_ but he hopes Nick knows.

In the end, he just claps Nick on the shoulder before crushing the butt of his cigarette with his heel. “You know, I’d never heard of this bar. It’s quite private, it’s amazing. Easy to have a good time without people shoving a camera in your face.”

Nick wipes his hands on his jeans. “Love this place. I mean, it’s _terrible_. The drinks are terrible and the songbook is terrible, but it means they don’t get many customers and there are never any paparazzi like there are at all the good places. It’s like our little secret. And now you’re in on it, Liam Payne, so don’t you go telling the press. Or Rita will kick me in the shins.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself.” Liam laughs. “Go on then, we should go back inside and do some more songs. Really show them how it's done.”

“Alas, I have to go home soon, since I have to be up in...” Nick glances at his watch. “Five hours. Horrible. But before I go, we really should do one more, I think. Can’t let the lot of them hog the microphone all night, can we?” He shakes his head tragically and leads the way inside, raising his voice. “Right, me and Liam are doing Uptown Funk next! Quit hogging the stage, Rita Ora!”

***

“No it’s a _new_ club we should hit up, Liam. C’mon, live a little,” Louis’s voice comes through the phone. “I already called your mates and they’re all coming, so you have no excuse, mate.” He sounds very triumphant.

Alfred jumps into Liam’s lap and tries to chew on Liam’s phone like it’s a toy he’s holding out of reach on purpose. “Alfred, no!”

“Liam, focus. Big night tonight! You can’t sit in your fucking house with your security man and your tiny dog for the rest of your fucking life, alright? Best way to deal with a break-up, giving it the big one all night, mate. Trust me.”

“I already did that just after we split up, remember, Louis? The press loved it.” He grimaces. “We rehearsed all afternoon, I just. I just think I’ll stay in tonight. Maybe tomorrow, yeah?” He pets Alfred’s head, watching him try to bite playfully at his fingers.

“You disappoint me, Liam,” Louis intones, but then he adds, “I’ll come by in the morning so we can get some shit done, yeah?” so Liam assumes he’s not too wounded.

Louis is not wrong though, Liam thinks once he’s ended the call and looks around the flat. He shouldn’t just sit inside all the time, his thoughts running in circles. He had a nice time at karaoke a few nights ago… He sends off a quick text to Nick asking if he’s doing anything fun tonight. It takes a few minutes but then his phone buzzes with a message that reads _having a party at my house. i told you about this liam, please come! also bring alfred so he can rave!_ followed by a series of wine glass and nail painting emojis.

Liam grins and gets ready.

***

Nick’s house is so crowded that Liam’s not sure his dog won’t be trampled. He picks up Alfred and makes his way through the clusters of people leaning against the wall, sipping wine on the sofa or, oddly, dancing to the Ketchup Song on the living room rug. He weaves into the kitchen where Nick is waving at him, a huge smile on his face.

“Hiya! This is the dogs’ room for the evening, so Alfred can make some friends!” Nick grins, looking down at Pig being chased around by a very cranky looking chihuahua. “Or possibly enemies for life. Either way, he’ll have stories to tell, and that’s what matters. Hey, let me get you a drink.” Nick squeezes his shoulder and then gets distracted halfway to the fridge, so Liam finds himself a beer and a relatively quiet spot in the living room.

“Liam! You’re here!” Harry’s voice is sudden and warm in his ear, and the next moment he’s wrapped up and hugged tightly by Harry’s octopus limbs. Harry is very, very drunk. “This is amazing. I always tell you guys about Nick’s parties and you never come.”

Liam doesn’t have the heart to tell Harry he has no idea when Harry told him about this, so he just pets Harry’s hair gently until he’s hugged out and ready to disentangle himself. It takes a while.

“Did you bring the new puppy? You should!” Harry peers into his face earnestly. “You and Nick should go on puppy dates! I mean, chaperone their dates so they don’t end up making new puppies together. Unless you want more puppies. Or human dates…” He trails off. “I’m not in charge of your life. Unless you think I should be. I could give it a try, if you want?”

Liam assumes he’s not meant to reply to Harry’s ramblings so he just pets his hair again and smiles fondly, steering Harry to a spot on the sofa when it opens up to stop him from toppling over. It’s no use because Harry just veers back to his feet, almost knocking over Liam’s drink. “Nick! Liam actually came to your party.” He sighs heavily when Nick approaches, swaying slightly. “I’m so glad. Liam, Nick thinks you look like David Beckham.”

“Excuse me! I was only reading out what Heat magazine wrote about him that one time! That was all!” Nick sputters, going a bit red in the face. “I mean, yes it's _true_ , but -”

“Hey. Nick. You should make Liam model the David Beckham underwear,” Harry interrupts, leaning into Nick for support. “That would be a really nice time for everyone involved, I think.”

“Alright, no more drinks for you, young Harold,” Nick says patiently, unable to hide a smile. “It brings out your perverted side. See, now you’ve made poor Liam all uncomfortable.”

“Nah, I’m alright,” Liam says, even though the thought has now popped into his head and he can feel his cheeks burning softly with it. “I’m going to need another drink though.” He pokes Harry’s nose as he passes him by on his way to the kitchen. “None for you.”

“You’re a terrible person.” Harry grimaces and bats at his own nose, before dropping his hand. “No, I didn’t mean that. Come back! Liam!”

He can hear Nick’s laughter as Harry reaches for Liam with a tragic expression on his face, and even when he’s all the way in the kitchen he can still hear it in his head, a weird, hiccupy laugh combined with Harry’s voice saying _human dates_.

By the time the party is winding down, Liam has a few drinks in him - though not nearly as many as Harry. Nick throws one of Harry’s arms over his shoulder and with some difficulty gets him up the stairs, ignoring all of Liam’s offers to help even though Liam’s a bloody expert at wrangling drunk band mates at this point.

He feels loopy and bubbly and thinks about texting Paddy to come pick them up, but Alfred is fast asleep under the strange hipster bonsai in Nick’s sun room, snoring louder than any dog his size should be able to. Liam doesn’t really want to wake him, so he just sits down on the floor next to him and watches everyone leave, watches Nick’s friend Ian scoop up a hilarious dog called Thurston while Pixie grabs her chihuahua with a “C’mere, darling.”

Daisy crouches next to Liam so she can bundle her own sleeping dog into her coat. She presses a kiss to Liam’s temple before straightening. “Goodnight. Don’t break his heart,” she says, and heads out.

Liam thinks you’d have to be a pretty shitty person to break a dog’s heart.

He doesn’t look up when Nick sits beside him on the sun room floor. “Did you put our young Harold to bed, then?”

Nick makes a face, Liam can see it in the corner of his eye. “I have. Rascal flopped down on top of the covers like a bloody starfish. No bed for me tonight.” He sighs tragically and Liam smiles but shakes his head compassionately anyway. 

“Thanks for inviting me tonight, Nick.”

Nick rolls his eyes, smiling fondly. “I invited you last week, when I told you about it. You just forgot about it and needed a reminder, idiot.”

“Oh.” Liam smiles. Alfred lifts his head from his paws and lets out a sleepy whine.

“Your dog needs a wee.” Nick yawns. He gets to his feet with an exaggerated groan, holding out a hand to pull up Liam. He hesitates and takes it, stumbling to his feet as a wave of dizziness overtakes him. He’s not sure how much he’s been drinking over the course of the night, but the fact that he’s not sure probably doesn’t bode well.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. He squeezes Nick's hand briefly, before he lets go and follows Nick, Pig and Alfred into the garden, watching the dogs circle each other happily in the darkness. It’s so nice here, he thinks. Here he is, with his expensive loft and a giant house in the countryside he's not using, thinking Nick’s place feels so much more comfortable and homey than most other places. So does Nick, his mind groggily provides. He feels so comfortable and at home talking to Nick, and he can’t figure out why that is.

“You’re being quiet in a way that’s slightly terrifying, Liam,” Nick hums, watching him under the porch light. Mosquitoes are circling his head like a bizarre halo. “Are you having deep thoughts?”

“No,” he says immediately, and maybe too defensively. When he looks up again Nick is still watching him, like there is an obvious and giant gaping hole in Liam’s chest cavity and Nick is trying to see to the bottom of him. Before he can talk himself out of it, he takes one step closer and kisses Nick.

He can feel a little gasp between them but he’s not sure which one of them it is. It doesn’t matter, he's kissing Nick slowly and quietly enough that he can feel Nick's chest rise and fall against his own. For a moment it feels almost perfect, his lips pressed to Nick’s in the seclusion of the small garden. But it was the wrong thing to do, and Liam realises it when Nick takes a small step back, clearing his throat.

“Right. Shit, sorry…” The words tumble out of Liam’s mouth and he’s suddenly dead sober, the liquor in his stomach churning unpleasantly. He’s not sure how to explain himself, he doesn’t think he can. He just _really_ wanted to kiss Nick, and then he did it without giving it a second thought. It’s really unlike him, and he finds he doesn’t know how to handle it at all.

“Liam. It’s alright.” Nick’s voice is low, and Liam realises for the first time that there might still be party-goers left in the house, that he just kissed Nick under a bloody porch light where any one of them could have seen, that he completely threw caution to the wind. He’s not sure who he is anymore. If he ever did. Meanwhile, Nick is… observing him. “Liam, you're a lovely person." _Oh no_ , says Liam's brain. "But you had a few drinks and you're looking a bit tired and emotional. I know you're working through some stuff and you should, like, take the time to think about everything. And I did say I would always be around to help and talk to. But I’m not going to be your experiment. Alright?” His voice sounds kind, but his face looks determined, even as he pats Liam’s cheek gently.

“Yeah, no, no worries I definitely get that,” Liam nods so hard he gets dizzy all over again. His head might roll right off his shoulders. He thinks he manages to mumble a vague goodnight as he picks up Alfred, and then he’s out the front door and onto the deserted street before he can embarrass himself further. He doesn’t even ring Paddy, just walks to the corner and stands there on his own while he calls for a taxi.

***

“You what?! I cannot bloody believe this, Liam.”

“I know, I know.” Liam groans, sinking back into the sofa cushions. His hangover isn’t as bad as he expected. However, the emotional hangover makes him wish he could have stayed in bed and cancelled on Louis. He didn’t though. Liam doesn’t cancel on things.

“I mean, I am incredibly hurt,” Louis goes on. “First you tell me you don’t want to come out and then I have to find out that you went to a Nick Grimshaw party with Harold? Honestly, you’ve cut me to the quick here, Payno.” He grimaces, cradling his mug of tea and taking a sip. He’s looking about as bleary as Liam feels this morning.

“It wasn’t planned or anything! I just… I started thinking about what you said, that I should go out and meet people. And then I just sort of.” He waved a hand. “Ended up there. I mean, he said I could bring Alfred. I can’t very well bring a puppy to a club, can I?”

“Details and excuse, Liam, stuff and nonsense!” Louis huffs, but Liam can tell he’s only being dramatic for the sake of being dramatic. “So did you?”

Liam blinks. “Did I what?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Meet people. At the disgusting hipster party? Did they all drink prosecco and have moustaches?” He grins.

“I… didn’t, really. I just talked to Nick and Haz. Well, mostly Nick. Harry was a bit pissed,” Liam says with a shrug, and Louis cackles. “But it was a nice party. Quiet but nice, I liked it.”

Louis stares at him for a long moment with something that looks suspiciously like fondness. “Of course you did. Well, fair enough. I will accept being brutally shafted in favour of hipsters just this once, Liam. But the moment you start eating kale, I reserve the right to punch you in the face, alright?”

“Alright.” Liam smiles. He sucks in a breath, tips his head back and closes his eyes for what comes next. “What would you say if I said that I think I fancy Nick?”

The silence stretches on. There’s no response and Liam _really_ doesn’t want to open his eyes, possibly ever again, but he’s aware he has to. When he finally blinks and shifts away from the ceiling to watch Louis, he’s watching Liam very intently.

“I’d say there must have been some really interesting drugs at that party,” says Louis quietly.

“Tommo.” Liam chews his lip.

Louis sighs, setting down his mug on the coffee table and hugging his knees to his chest. “Alright, alright. We’re talking about this, then. Well, I'd say that I didn’t know you… fancied the Nick Grimshaws of the world.”

“I didn’t either. I mean. I thought I might. It's why Sophia and I... You know." He shifts on the couch and wishes he'd picked a day when his brain was less sluggish to have this conversation. "I was actually going to ask him to maybe set me up with a friend of his, you know?” Liam smiles a bit when Louis just nods. Sluggish brain or not, it's so easy to talk to Louis. For all he’s so loud, he’s also a brilliant listener. “But now I think I might actually like him better than anyone he could come up with. Or anyone _I_ could come up with…”

“God help me. You are a sappy sod, aren’t you?” Louis says, but he bumps his knee into Liam’s with a sharp grin. “Well, I suppose you could do worse? Harold really likes him, and he only ever likes People Who Are Very Nice.” He rolls his eyes affectionately. “So he’s probably not a complete arse, you know? I say go for it, Payno.”

“Go for it.” Liam’s shoulders slump. Easy for Louis to say. “Sure. Except he doesn’t feel the same way. Made that quite clear when I kissed him and he pushed me away.”

“You _kissed_ him?! Liam James Payne, you dirty minx!” Louis is staring at him in absolute delight.

Liam winces. “I have _neighbours_.”

“Oh, fuck them.” Louis waves his hands impatiently. “This is better than ITV. Wait, he pushed you _away_?! What the hell is wrong with him? You’re a bloody catch! He’d be lucky to have you!” Louis is on his feet, full of angry indignation on Liam’s behalf.

“He said he didn’t want to be like… my experiment.” Liam shrugs. His entire body burns with embarrassment at the memory of it. Now that the night is coming back to him in sharp relief, Liam feels much worse about his own actions than about Nick's reaction to them. He made a real, proper friend in Nick and then he fucked it up. He's terrible.

“Liam. Listen to me very carefully.” Louis puts his hands on Liam’s shoulders, leaning forward in a way that’s sort of intimidating. The coffee table wobbles precariously. “Did you tell him that he’s not? I mean, I know you quite well and you don’t do anything by halves. You _don’t_ just want to experiment, do you?”

Liam just shakes his head quietly. He's been trying so hard to figure himself out and to be honest, he really wishes it was an option. Things would be a lot easier if he could just go on a blind date with some bloke and have fun with him for a little while. But if yesterday has proven anything, it's that Liam tends to follow his gut, and apparently his gut only wants to be with someone he has feelings for. And, as it turns out, he has feelings for Nick. _Fucking hell,_ he thinks quietly.

"No," he groans. "But it doesn’t matter, does it? I made a right mess of things, so I grabbed Alfred and went home as fast as I could.”

"I knew it." Louis smacks him upside the head. “Idiot,” he declares. Liam glares at him silently, rubbing at the spot above his ear. “Well, there’s nothing else for it. You’ll have to go over there with like. A big romantic gesture up your sleeve.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t _know_ , Liam. You’re the romantic, not me. Go watch bloody Notting Hill or something, how should I know?” He sits back down on the sofa and slings an arm over Liam’s shoulders, squeezing lightly. “Just know that, if you two ever get married, I am going to mock you for the rest of my days. It will be the purpose of my entire existence.”

Liam shoves an elbow into his ribs.

They spend the rest of the day writing and going over a business model Louis is keen to try out. It's not until he's in bed that Liam has some time to think about how to fix things. If he's honest with himself, he's not so sure about big romantic gestures when he's already made a giant fool of himself once. What he wants, more than anything, is not to lose Nick as a mate. Nothing else is important compared to that.

He tosses and turns for a while before he gives in, sighing loudly and grabbing his phone. Chewing on the tip of his tongue, he writes Nick a messages that just reads _Sorry about yesterday I was verrrrry drunk an it makes me do weird things sometimes can we still be mates?_

He hits send and forcefully shoves his phone under the pillow, willing himself to sleep.

***

The following morning, Liam wakes up to a single message from Nick. His heart skips in his chest when he opens it, but it simply reads _it’s all good young man, try not to worry so much about stuff_ followed by three dancing lady emojis. Liam smiles and is just about to reply when a second message comes in. This one reads _ps could you please walk Pig this morning? key is under the mat. have a meeting after work I forgot about and don’t want her to wee on the new carpet. also she loves you and Alfred. pleeease. thanks you’re my hero!_ with a single kissyface emoji.

Liam looks at it for a long time and then heaves a sigh and replies that he’s on his way. He can't help but smile. Maybe their friendship isn't ruined after all.

Walking two young, excitable dogs proves surprisingly tricky. He walks along Hampstead Heath and juggles the two leads, effectively trapping himself when both dogs tear off in opposite directions until Paddy rolls his eyes and takes Alfred’s lead from him.

“Let me, before you sprain your entire being.”

“Thanks, mate.” Liam grimaces. “That was a bit complicated.”

“It’s really not, if you just make them obey you instead of the other way around. They need discipline or it’s hopeless.” He grins at Liam. “Trust me, this is my job, I know.”

“You’re hilarious.” Liam stares at him, pausing. “But thanks.”

“So,” Paddy says, and he clears his throat in a way that means he’s about to bring up an uncomfortable subject, like that time he sat down on Liam’s bed so they could watch a movie together and a dirty magazine slid out from under Liam’s pillow. “You and Nick seem to be becoming good friends quite fast.”

Liam chews his lip and sits down heavily on a bench. An engraved plaque next to his elbow reads _To Jane, who sat here every day. From Tilly, who sat beside her_. He doesn’t know who Jane is, or Tilly, but he would really like someone who sits beside him every day. Doesn’t matter if it’s a guy, he thinks. The thought is like a bird taking flight. He's been spending so much time thinking and worrying about the details, and here's the truth of it. It doesn’t matter as long as it’s the right person. He looks at the plaque and smiles wide.

“Yeah,” he says. “He’s really nice.” He pauses, makes a face. He’s really _nice_? God, now he’s sounding about twelve years out. He’s all out of sorts today. “I mean, yeah, we’re good mates now. Mutual love of dogs, you know?”

“Right,” Paddy says and raises an eyebrow in a way that makes it very obvious that he doesn’t think this is about dogs at all. Liam feels a prickle of sweat between his shoulderblades. It’s coming, the conversation, and he’s not sure he’s ready to have it. The word _bisexual_ feels strange and brand new in his head and he’s still getting used to it, he doesn’t think he knows how to talk about it just yet. Especially not to someone as close to him as Paddy is. What he wants, right now, is to talk to Nick.

And that’s just it, isn’t it? That's everything Paddy is so subtly bringing up. He just wants to talk to Nick. And even if Nick doesn’t want him, Liam will settle for being his friend, he really will.

“Right.” Liam’s voice sounds surprisingly firm to his own ears. “Good mates. I wish we were more than that, but. What can you do?” He shrugs, glancing over. His heart is hammering in his chest. He doesn’t want Paddy to look at him differently, with apprehension or maybe even something worse than that. “Is that. Are we still alright?”

Paddy stares at him, a frown wrinkling his forehead, and there’s definitely anger behind his eyes. “If you think that matters to me, you’re an arse and I’m going to smack you.”

Liam's heart soars back up from the depths to which it has just sunk. “Oh _good_. I mean, not the smacking part. Obviously.” Liam shakes his head, filled to the brim with relief. “But you’re one of my best mates, you know? I wasn’t sure how to-”

“How to tell me important things about yourself.” Paddy raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Liam blushes. “You do realise I’ve been living in your bloody open floor plan loft for a while now, yeah? You do realise I sleep one room over from you and that I can _hear_ you?”

Liam stares at him in mortification and frantically tries to remember if he's been watching much porn lately, and what kind. He definitely remembers there was one with some very vocal blokes in it.

“Also,” Paddy continues smugly, completely ignoring the horrified look on Liam’s face. “You talk a lot in your sleep. Just last night you kept talking about Nick and calling him handsome. Dream you is playing it _very_ close to the chest, let me tell you. Anyway, I'm only saying that you're not exactly blowing me away with surprise right now, mate.”

Liam groans. “Oh God.”

“Yeah, you say that sometimes, too,” Paddy says dryly, and Liam groans harder which just makes Paddy raise a very telling eyebrow. This may be the worst conversation Liam has ever had in his life, and yet he feels so light. Paddy laughs, loud and warm, and throws an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t be too glum. It never bothered me. Besides, you've called me handsome in your sleep, one or two times. Really good for the old ego.”

Liam laughs, jamming an elbow into Paddy's side. “Don’t want to shag you, though. Don't get any ideas.”

“As if you could have me.” Paddy hums, squeezing Liam's shoulders. "Come on, let's take back the dog, you've got a show in a couple of hours."

***

In order to beat traffic they end up getting to the venue several hours early, and even after the meet and greets have finished they still have two hours to kill before the show starts. There's no outdoor area where they won't be screamed at, either by fans or by a crew member, and Liam has no idea what to do with himself. They'll be here for five nights, finishing their UK tour, and the realisation that this might be their last tour for a long time makes Liam feel jittery and not like himself. He doesn't know what he'll do once this stops.

The boys don't seem as bothered, or possibly they're just much better at distracting themselves, Liam thinks. Niall and Louis are playing Grand Theft Auto and shouting rude things at each other, while Harry has got his nose in a book, occasionally copying something into one of his notebooks. Liam watches some YouTube videos, plays some games on his phone, and finally whines at Paddy to entertain him until Paddy actually flees into the kitchen. In the end, he just walks out and lets himself into the empty backstage gym, switching on the stereo in the corner as loud as it will go. Maybe hitting the punching bag for a while will get rid of this restless energy balled up inside of him.

It does, for a while. He’s not giving it his all, because he needs to conserve some energy for the show, but with every hit the spring in his gut uncoils a little.

“Hi,” says Harry’s voice from right next to the punching bag. Liam _definitely_ didn’t hear him come in.

He presses his gloves to the sides of the bag, steadying himself and the bag, and then bends down to switch off the music.

“Bloody hell. I literally almost punched you in the face just now, Haz. Girls everywhere would come after me with like, tar and feathers.” He uses his teeth to rip open the velcro on one glove, wriggling his hand free.

“I know,” Harry says simply. “Nick told me you kissed him.”

Liam freezes midway through releasing his other hand. “Bollocks.” It’s more of a curse than a denial. “When?”

“Uh, just now, when we were driving over here. He’s bringing all his godchildren to the show tonight. So did you?” Harry’s just watching him in that way he has, frowning slightly like he’s waiting for something. Presumably, Liam realises too late, he might be waiting for Liam to explain why he kissed Harry’s best friend.

“Um. I did. But it won’t happen again.”

Harry frowns harder. It’s very intense. “What? Why not?”

This stumps Liam. He frees his other hand and tosses the gloves somewhere nearby. There’s a lot of floor available. “What do you mean, why not? Look, I was a bit drunk, and -” He stops himself. “That’s not true, I definitely wasn’t that drunk. Not enough for it to be an excuse. I just, I kissed Nick because I wanted to, and he didn’t want me to.” He chews his lip. It hurts more than expected to say that.

“Don’t be silly, Liam, of course he’d want you to. He’s always talking about how fit you are.” Harry blinks. “Like, in great detail. Sometimes on national radio.”

Liam doesn’t know about that. He takes great pride in being asleep whenever possible that early in the morning. “I. I mean, you did say he said I look like Beckham, but you were quite drunk, Harry.”

“Why would I lie about stuff just because I’m drunk?” Harry looks at him, earnest and confused, and something comes crashing down inside of Liam. Of course Harry would always be truthful, no matter how drunk he is. “He asked you to walk Pig earlier, right?”

“Uh yeah, because he was in a meeting. That doesn't mean anything.”

Harry just looks at Liam in disbelief and then makes a _tsk_ noise in his throat, shaking his head. “I can’t help you.” He wanders off and goes and drapes himself over Lou who swats at him as she’s finishing setting up her station.

It’s a good show. He tries not to think about it almost being the last one, but everyone’s energy levels are up so high that they end up having an amazing time on the stage. The audience goes absolutely wild and when they stumble backstage and into a Land Rover, sweaty skin and hearts pounding, all Liam really thinks about is the fact that Nick was in that crowd tonight. He fishes for his phone and sends _did your godchildren have fun? going to take alfred to the heath tomorrow if u wanna join meeee_.

***

“Strong look. I like the jorts.” Liam snorts, crouching by Alfred to undo his lead and watching him run off to the nearest tree, peeing on it with great delight.

“Excuse you, Liam Payne, but I seem to remember you have worn much worse than this. Which one of us is the fashion ambassador here, hm?” Nick raises an eyebrow at him.

“That really doesn’t mean much, mate. They’ve given Harry loads of style awards.” He grins up at Nick before straightening. “Also, it’s going to rain in about five minutes and the dogs are going to jump up and get your legs all muddy, and you’re going to complain. I know how it goes.”

Nick smiles at him, delighted, and Liam is so glad they’re alright after what happened. “You know me too well already.”

They fall into step and start walking at the exact time it begins to drizzle, but the dogs seem to enjoy themselves so Liam just zips up his hoodie and shoves his hands into the pockets. “Hey, so. I have been thinking more, like you said I should. And it made me realise that, like, I really loved the girls I’ve been with, when I was with them. I just… Something changed. I changed, I guess. And I think I’m sort of drifting in a different direction now?” It sounds stupid but it also sounds exactly like how he feels, for once, and he’s weirdly proud of himself for a moment.

“Sounds like your intense soul searching has led you to some conclusions there.” Nick is watching him with a smile tugging at his lips, but Liam is too afraid to look directly at him. “Look. Try not to be so worried about it. The way I figure it, everyone’s sexuality is fluid, right? People are just people and sometimes as they grow older they start liking more or different things. I mean. _Theoretically_. Not me. I only like the penises.” He grins wide, and Liam laughs around his cluster of nerves. “But everyone’s different and your experience isn’t going to be mine, et cetera et cetera.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m not even worried about that part.” And he isn’t, he realises. Not anymore. It turns out he knows himself much better than he thought he did. “I’m just not looking forward to the tabloids, the second-guessing, the back-handed comments… You know, the usual except worse.” He makes a face that he hopes is nonchalant enough not to show the cold dread swirling in his stomach. “I just want… If I meet someone,” he very carefully says _someone_ and tries not to glance at Nick, “and it turns out it’s a bloke, I don’t want it to be a big thing.”

“It’s going to be a big thing,” says Nick simply.

Liam sighs. “Yeah I know, I just want -”

“You want everything. I get it. You’re a popstar, you’re used to getting everything you want. But…” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

Liam nods. He knows.

“But, you know it doesn’t have to be a big fuss for _you_ , don’t you?” Nick continues. “I mean. People are always going to make a big deal about it, but that’s their problem, right? You can make it as casual as you want, there doesn’t have to be like, a press conference.” Nick stops walking and turns to face Liam. “People are going to have opinions anyway, but you don’t have to open yourself up to all of them.” He wrinkles his nose dramatically. “That could kill a man! You just have to do you, Liam Payne. And whoever else you end up doing.” He grins.

Liam snorts and nods, throwing a stick and watching Alfred trip over his front paws racing after it. “Good advice. Fair warning though, I’m absolute rubbish at taking advice, so I might just do the opposite of everything you just said.”

“That’s allowed too. I mean, give all the press conferences you want. You could be a really good role model for your fans, I think.”

“I don’t think I’ve been much of a role model in that way, yet. I haven’t always handled things in the best possible way.” He peers down at the path in front of them. It’s an understatement and they both know it.

“Everyone figures things out at their own pace.” Nick just shrugs. “You live and you learn, yeah?”

Liam gets the distinct feeling that Nick doesn’t want to keep having this conversation, and he’d rather not put another dent in their friendship, so he just nods.

They’re only a few streets away from Nick’s house when they can see Daisy coming up the path, Monty pulling on the lead excitedly at the sight of Pig and Alfred. “Hello!” She waves, unhooking the lead and watching the little dog tear off towards his friends. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

“Hiya. Yeah, just imagine, the path where I walk my dog every single day. Must be your sixth sense.” Nick smiles and kisses her cheek. “Hey, I’d love to stay and chat, but I do in fact have tons of stuff to do this afternoon. I’m seeing you at the pub tomorrow though, yeah?”

She tilted her head, staring at him. “Duh.” Nick calls for Pig and puts her back on the lead, waving and walking away. Liam blinks after him. He’s never seen Nick make that quick of an exit _anywhere_ , and he can’t help but feel like it was his fault. Nick must be so tired of him bringing up the same topic of conversation every time they hang out...

“Okay, what did you do?” Daisy rounds on him, frowning. “Why is he a mess?!”

“What? I didn’t do anything.” At least, he doesn’t think so. Liam frowns. “He’s a mess?” he asks weakly. “I don’t know, we were just talking about like, coming out stuff…” He clears his throat.

Daisy’s face suddenly goes all the way from regularly cheerful to extremely delighted. “Really? You and Nick?!”

“What? _No_.” Liam chews his lip. “Me. I mean me. There’s no me and Nick.” The words taste like razors.

“What? Why not?” Daisy puts a hand on his arm, sweetness personified. Liam can’t help but look around in case of paps.

“Because,” he says, not quite knowing how he’s going to continue that sentence. “He said he didn’t want to be my experiment.”

“Well obviously! Why would he settle for that?!” Daisy frowns and punches him in the arm with a small, sharp fist. She suddenly reminds him of Sophia. “He deserves more than that, and you know it.”

_Don’t break his heart._ Her words roll around in his head like thunder. “So,” he says slowly, “so you’re saying Nick has proper feelings for me?”

Daisy just stares at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Um, yes. Big, fat, disgustingly soppy feelings.”

“Oh. _Oh_. I have to go.” He scoops up Alfred, lead and all, and then he’s running down the path and out of the park, thanking every cardio session he’s ever done for the fact that he catches up with Nick before he gets a chance to step into his house.

“Nick.” He’s panting though. He’s been smoking too much, cardio or no cardio. “Hold up.”

“Did you run all the way here?” Nick looks baffled, hovering uncertainly in the doorway before stepping aside so Liam can step inside.

“I didn’t think you liked me,” Liam blurts out the moment the front door has closed. “You know, as more than a friend. Of course I don’t just want you to be uh, an experiment. At all. I want like, the whole proper… stuff. If you do.” He hesitates. “I’m not very good at the casual thing,” he adds for good measure, and isn’t that the truth on several levels.

“What?” Nick asks faintly. He’s looking a bit flushed and undone, and it’s doing a lot for Liam right now.

“I didn’t think you fancied me,” Liam says again, and he struggles to conceal the near physical cringe that passes through him as he hears his own words.

“Are you joking?” Nick’s voice pitches high and he stares at Liam in disbelief. “Hello?! Have you even seen yourself? Just looking at you makes me break out in a _sweat_.” He shakes his head slowly. “I mean. You look like the posters I hung up on my wall when I was a bloody teenager!”

“I do not,” Liam mumbles.

Nick just stares at him for an unending moment and then grabs his phone, unlocking it and then shoving it in Liam’s face. There, on Nick’s phone, is a rather glamorous shot of Liam in black and white. He doesn’t even remember when it was taken, and it’s definitely been airbrushed, but Liam will admit that he was giving the photographer his best smouldering look. It’s a bit embarrassing to look at, really, so he decides to focus on the matter at hand.

“I’m your phone lock screen?” he asks weakly.

Nick looks flustered, and something blossoms in Liam’s chest. “Well. I like looking at nice things, alright? And you’re very nice to look at.”

Liam laughs, he can’t help it. “You do realise I don’t usually look like that, don’t you?”

“Well you don’t exactly look like rubbish on a regular day either, Liam Payne.” Nick rolls his eyes, and then he steps right into Liam’s space and kisses him.

It’s not like how Liam imagined it - and he’s imagined it more than a few times, if he’s honest. The hallway is dark and narrow and he’s trying not to trip backwards over an umbrella stand, but it’s so much better in real life. He smiles against Nick’s mouth, curls his fingers around Nick’s arms for balance and kisses back, lest there is any doubt that he wants this. Because he _really_ wants this.

“I really don’t want you to be an experiment, I’m sorry,” he mumbles into the kiss, because he can apparently never ever stop self-explaining.

“Oh my God, we’ve covered this, stop talking.” Nick laughs, and they’re pressed so close that Liam can feel it rumble in his chest. “Stop apologising when you didn’t do anything and focus on the matter at hand, please.” He sighs, looking down at the duo of frenetic dogs who have currently tangled themselves as well as Nick and Liam up in their leads. They look back up at him innocently.

“Right. We should…” Liam waves a hand, carefully twirling around a few times until he’s free of the lead, and then carrying Alfred into the sitting room. “Where should I put him?”

“Anywhere but the bedroom!” Nick grins at him, and Liam’s heart trips over itself. _Right_ , he thinks. _Anywhere but the bedroom. Because…_ He’s interrupted when Nick bursts out laughing. “Calm down! I can actually _see_ you over-thinking and it looks exhausting.”

“It is, a bit.” Liam grimaces. He decides to just let Alfred run around wherever he wants if Nick is just going to laugh at him like that.

“I have the perfect antidote, though.” Nick smiles, wide and guileless, and Liam stops thinking almost immediately, stalking back across the room to kiss Nick again, his hands cupping Nick’s face and memorising the moment with his fingertips. It’s slow and deep, and by the end of it Liam is so turned on that he can’t see straight.

“Right,” he just says, opening his mouth to say something and then closing it again. “Go on, then. Bedroom.”

Nick chuckles but he doesn’t even comment, and the firm grasp of his hand on Liam’s makes it obvious that he’s more than alright with the suggestion. He closes the bedroom door firmly once they’re inside, and then they’re kissing and trying to undo buttons, their own or each other’s, it doesn’t really matter.

Nick pauses in his urgency, his fingers curled closely around Liam’s hip and burning right through the fabric. “Liam. Are you wearing Batman underwear right now? Is that a thing that’s happening?”

“I am, actually.” Liam sounds a bit defiant and he tilts up his chin. They’re his lucky underwear and now he’s not even going to give Nick the satisfaction of telling him that.

There’s no sign of mockery in Nick’s eyes though, he just smiles at Liam with unbridled affection and solemnly declares, “I am obsessed with you, Liam Payne. You’re my new icon.” Liam laughs, kissing Nick mostly to shut him up. It doesn’t work. “I mean it. You’re a very earnest human with weird habits and too many feelings. I like that in a person. You know, even though my friends keep telling me I’m emotionally numb.”

“You’re really not.” Liam shakes his head absently, distracted by running his hands through the hair on Nick’s chest. He looks up and smiles.

“I know,” Nick says and _winks_. He actually winks and Liam is very much gone for this man. It’s strange and overwhelming but mostly it’s _fun_. He finds himself worrying less when he’s with Nick.

Later, Liam’s eyes are drooping closed and Nick’s pressed against his side, quietly humming a tune in Liam’s ear. “What’s song?” he mumbles, not awake enough and too post-orgasmic for full sentences.

“Don’t know. One of yours though, definitely.”

“It really isn’t, Nick.” He doesn’t even open his eyes, just yawns into the pillow. It smells like Nick’s shampoo, and he already likes it better than his own pillows.

“Hey, I never claimed to be the world’s greatest hummer,” Nick says, and then snorts with laughter into Liam’s shoulder.

“You’re literally worse than Harold.” Liam rolls onto his back, letting his head fall sideways so he can look at Nick. “So, I’m still worried about what happens next. I’m probably always going to be worried.”

“The trick, Liam, is to not care what people think.”

“Right. And how do I do that?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.” Nick smiles ruefully. “When I learn how to do it, you will be the first to know though. I don’t know, maybe I’ll stop caring if you distract me with your abs.”

“Oh shut up.” Liam laughs, and kisses Nick until they’re both asleep.

***

In the morning, Liam sneaks into the kitchen to make Nick a nice coffee - he figures that the least he can do in return for incredible orgasms is make the man some coffee. He looks around helplessly until he finds the espresso machine. It’s black and stainless steel, a thing of beauty. It also isn’t plugged in, and doesn’t look like it’s ever been used. There’s a small coffee maker beside it, so Liam thinks it’s safe to assume that Nick usually just gets his coffee from this one. He throws open cabinet after cabinet until he’s located coffee pads as well as bread for toast. The bread, sadly, doesn’t look like it’s still safe for use. He vaguely remembers Nick telling him he’s off carbs, which might explain the state of it.

Something tenses and releases inside of him, like a big wave. He doesn’t know where anything in this kitchen is. Bloody hell, he doesn’t know what Nick would like for breakfast, or if he even _eats_ breakfast. Does he take his coffee with milk, sugar? Does he even drink coffee or does this coffee maker just get used by guests?

He sits down at the kitchen island, staring at the marble and breathing slowly. What was he even thinking? He knew every little thing about Sophia. He recognised the sound of her footsteps without ever seeing her, even when they were backstage and surrounded by dozens of people. He doesn’t know _anything_ about Nick.

Pig putters into the kitchen, her nails tapping lightly on the wood. She wags her tail at him and stands up, placing her front paws in Liam’s lap and staring at him hopefully. The wave crashing in Liam’s chest washes away down the surf like it was never there to begin with. He pets her head and feeds her a treat from the box on the island.

Nick is a lot like his dog, Liam thinks. He’s very easy to love. And it doesn’t matter that Liam doesn’t know every little thing about him. He knows what he needs to know, really. Nick is supportive, and trustworthy with his whole being, and _really_ funny, and much more clever than Liam is. Also, he blows Liam’s entire mind in bed, so that’s quite good.

“You are smiling at my wall. Why are you smiling at my wall?” Nick sits down next to him, raising an eyebrow. He looks tired and sleep-warm but also a bit cautious, like he wasn’t sure Liam would still be here. Like he’s not sure if it’s okay to kiss Liam. Liam wishes he would.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?” Nick smiles, going for casual. “Hint, there are no bad answers. Except ‘about murdering you because I’m secretly a serial killer and that’s why I stare at walls and smile quietly at myself’. That one would _suck_.”

“I was thinking about, you know. This. And like, I was a bit panicked because I didn’t know if you’ve ever used your espresso machine or if you eat carbs in the morning or not. You know? But then I figured that I do know that I want to get to know you better, because I know enough to know that I want to know more, and like, that getting to know more part might be really fun.”

Nick just blinks at him a few times and God, Liam’s word vomiting again. And he’s not even drunk this time. Then Nick’s face breaks into a giant smile and he shakes his head. “You are a beautiful soul, Liam Payne.” He cups Liam’s face in his hands and kisses him soundly. “Weird, though. But beautiful.”

“Shut up and tell me how you want your coffee.” Liam grins, cheeks burning. Nick ignores him and instead just leans back in his chair and yawns with a loud moan. It spreads all the way down to Liam’s toes like wildfire.

“You were moaning in your sleep,” he says, setting down a cup of coffee in front of Nick. He’ll just have to drink it this way if he’s going to make Liam guess. “I couldn’t figure out if it was a good or a bad dream.” He grins.

“Probably just reliving the night,” Nick says innocently, sipping his coffee and making a horrified face. “Oh God, _no_. This is terrible. Besides, you were _talking_ in your sleep.”

“So I’ve been told. What did I say?” He sits back down and smiles as Nick lifts his legs and dumps his feet in Liam’s lap.

“Hm, I think you said you were going to nab us a two-week holiday on Richard Branson’s private island.” Nick grins, wiggling his toes against Liam’s thigh. It’s very distracting and Liam is sure he’s doing it on purpose.

“I feel like that’s probably a lie,” he says hoarsely.

“Yes, well. Doesn’t mean it’s not a brilliant idea. No paparazzi, no cameras.” Nick shrugs, pressing his heel against Liam’s crotch.

Liam closes his eyes briefly. “Yeah. Alright. And then I’ll figure out the rest when we come back.”

Nick shakes his head. “ _We’ll_ figure out the rest,” he says, and Liam’s heart grows several sizes in his chest. Sure, it might all get a bit mad for a while, but both their lives were pretty mad to begin with, he figures. It doesn’t sound nearly as scary, getting to do it with Nick.

***


End file.
